


Warmth

by JustGalactic



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Angst, Fluff, M/M, but also a healthy dose of, crowley really needs a damn hug huh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-24
Updated: 2019-06-24
Packaged: 2020-05-18 17:35:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,020
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19339300
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JustGalactic/pseuds/JustGalactic
Summary: Due to extenuating circumstances, Crowley has to spend the night at Aziraphale’s house. And Aziraphale has no couch. And just one bed. And Crowley shouldn’t be expected to just sleep on the floor!





	Warmth

**Author's Note:**

> in this house we love tropes. this is my first good omens fic (honestly my first fic in a while!) so we’ll see??

It wasn't necessarily ideal circumstances, but it was just one night, Crowley reminded himself. And Aziraphale said he didn't have a couch, so this was the best he could do, and he'd just have to deal with it.

But Crowley was lying in the angel’s bed and his heart was beating far too fast and he couldn't get his brain to form coherent sentences, and it was all rather too much.

“You don't kick, do you?” Aziraphale's polite, quiet demeanor eased some of Crowley’s nerves. This was his best friend, what did he have to be worried about?

“I, uh… no,” Crowley stammered out after realizing he'd been asked a question. Normally, he'd have shot back a witty retort, but this wasn't exactly a normal situation.

“Are you going to just lie there on top of the covers?” There was a hint of laughter in Aziraphale's voice, but no mockery. Simply pure amusement.

It really hadn't sunk in that Crowley would be sleeping under the same blankets as his friend until just then, and a lot of emotions bubbled inside of him as he less than gracefully climbed under the covers.

Aziraphale climbed in after him, wearing a fuzzy matching pajama set, of course. Crowley immediately turned so his back was towards the angel and made sure there was as much space in between them as possible.

“Goodnight, Crowley,” came Aziraphale's chipper voice.

“Yeah, g’night,” Crowley mumbled back, words muffled as he shoved his face into Aziraphale's pillows. Damn, they even smelled like him, and Crowley found himself wanting to drown in that scent.

It took a while for Crowley to even get close to sleep. He listened to Aziraphale's breathing slow, and tried to match his own breaths to the cadence, but he was just too damn jittery. He barely moved an inch, fearing that every time he did would disturb Aziraphale.

 _I'm a demon, for hell’s sake,_ he thought. _Why do I give a shit what disturbs him?_

But he still didn't want to move.

Eventually, despite his nerves, his body grew exhausted, and he fell into an uneasy sleep.

Gentle sunlight danced through thin curtains. A bird sang quietly outside. An arm was wrapped around Crowley's waist, and his legs were tangled with someone else's.

Crowley tensed for just a moment before remembering where he'd been forced to spend the night. He stole a glance downward, seeing Aziraphale's arm draped across his torso.

Crowley realized that he could feel the angel's warm breath on his neck, and felt the rise and fall of Aziraphale's chest against his own body. His breathing had fallen easily and perfectly in sync with Aziraphale's.

It was too perfect, it had to be fake. He half expected Aziraphale's arm to dissolve into maggots as Hastur appeared beside him, ready to reprimand him for being friendly with the enemy. But Aziraphale remained, steady and constant as always.

He was so warm, and for the first time since Crowley had fallen, he felt safe. If anyone happened to see the two of them like this, it was all over, but in Aziraphale's arms, Crowley felt like nothing could hurt him.

Crowley didn't realize what was happening until his throat closed up and he felt something slip down his face and form a tiny puddle on Aziraphale's pillows.

Crowley's first thought was _shit. I can't start crying, I can't wake him up._

And his aversion to waking up Aziraphale wasn't just about Aziraphale anymore. Crowley was absolutely terrified of the angel waking up because he knew all the warmth and security would immediately go away.

So Crowley held in his tears as much as he could, even as the sobs threatened to shake his entire body. He'd been through so much in his long life, and to think that this was what reduced him to tears. The embrace of an angel.

And as he thought about it, Crowley thought about how weak he was, how he was a terrible excuse for a demon, how eventually, this incredible feeling would have to come to an end, and it was all so much, too much. Crowley couldn't take it anymore, and he began to sob. It was quiet, but violent. His whole body shook with the force of it.

Aziraphale began to stir and mumble incoherently, but as soon as he felt Crowley crying, he shot wide awake. Aziraphale shook Crowley.

“Are you having a bad dream? Crowley, are you alright?” A bad dream was infinitely less embarrassing than the truth, and Crowley was grateful for the escape route Aziraphale had opened for him.

Crowley pretended to be startled awake, and Aziraphale stopped shaking him and sat up. Crowley held in the whimper that threatened to escape when Aziraphale wasn't holding him anymore. He plastered on a lopsided grin, even as tears rolled down his cheeks.

“Sorry about that,” Crowley replied with a fake sense of calm. “Night terror,” he offered as an explanation. “Living in hell isn't exactly conducive to healthy sleep.” Aziraphale seemed to buy it, and Crowley was able to let out a quiet sigh of relief.

“I should probably be getting ready anyway,” Aziraphale said, with a glance at the clock.

When he stood up from the bed, Crowley wasn't able to hold back the sudden whimper of loneliness that escaped his throat. He immediately looked away as Aziraphale froze and turned back.

“Are… are you alright?” Aziraphale took a step back towards the bed. “I have time, if you need me to uh…” Crowley didn't want him to finish the sentence, and he practically leapt from the bed, legs still tangled in the sheets.

“Nope! I'm fine!” Crowley stumbled as he began to walk, and clumsily freed his legs from the blankets. “See you around. Thanks for letting me crash here.”

The door slammed shut before Aziraphale could even say “you're welcome.” He sighed as the demon traipsed away. As he got dressed for the day, Aziraphale said a silent thank you to the powers that allowed him to enact such a miracle as waking up with a demon in his arms. 

**Author's Note:**

> hopefully the ending like. made sense lol. hope you enjoyed it! check me out on tumblr @justgalactic or twitter @woodlandenby


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